Bag Talk (feat. Stros)

Uh, Stros They got me in my bag like I'm looking for Father Christmas Not too humble for revenge don't make it on karmas wishlist Stop bitching two injections and the right shade of lipstick Just respect it I'm connected like Morgan Freedman's hit list Death is in the air like still hearts and open eyes I start drinking just as soon as god decide to close the blinds Its like a gymnast on the board when they load the nine Just know anywhere you find hope better know its crime I keep an open mind like Mojo and Rick opps That oh no will bounce yo ass like pogo and tik-toks I'm strip-hot Stros a raw ball on the corner Turning out the night and breaking more laws in the morning I'm all for it Give my rage a chance at life I'm with my main but give this dime bitch a chance at night My ambition come from missions screaming damn, that's nice I ain't bitching, it's just sickening I'm like, damn that's life, Bitch Yeah I'm in my bag again Vagabond, wandering around Wishing that I had a friend Pencil in meetings for the cash like it's a habit Got a bad bitch who shake her ass to television static It's the Most hated on they treat us like a basket case Kiss of death, baby, can you tell me how the casket taste I knew I wasn't wasting time with all that time I had to waste Show them what it's like to lose and leave them with the saddest face Bars hotter than a fireplace on Christmas They don't understand that I only spit if I got shit to say Money longer than that Al Capone prison stay If I only know one thing I know I'm getting lit today Hundred pounds on the scale but I ain't lifting weights Shit done changed in a game it went from nicks to eighths Hop on the mic and I'm eating just let me fix a plate You think you did it like me well that's a big mistake Four locos to Henny but we still sipping forties If I'm in town for the week I'm probably with your shorty Just another sorry story Studying the art of war Balling like I'm Brunson put my money with me in the morgue